


drabbles

by tigriswolf



Series: meme fics [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Bullying, F/M, Gen, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Murder, POV Outsider, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, Self-Harm, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unrequited Love, Victim Blaming (Self)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-27
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 8,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of my Glee drabbles are now here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alas, how heedless were the eyes on whom the Summer shone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Alas, how heedless were the eyes on whom the Summer shone  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dickinson  
> Warnings: AU at end of sophomore year; character death  
> Pairings: shades of pre- Puck/Finn here. Could just be two boys clinging to each other in grief, I'm not entirely sure.  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 770  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: is spoilery, so I'll put it at the end.

On Thursday morning, school is cancelled. Nobody is sure why—one of the more prevalent rumors says a dead animal was found in the auditorium, something big. Maybe a moose.

Mercedes tries to organize a girls’ day in for the glee girls, but no one can get ahold of Kurt.

.

Friday, school is still cancelled and Finn is incommunicado, too.

.

But early Saturday morning, before the sun is even up, Puck’s phone goes off, the annoying jingle he set as Finn’s ringtone.

“What the fuckin’ hell?” he mutters as he answers, barely awake.

“I know we haven’t really been friends lately,” Finn says, voice shaky. “But I need you, man. I really fuckin’ need you.”

“Finn, dude,” Puck says, wide awake now. “What’s wrong?”

“I… why would he do it?” Finn asks, sobs overtaking the words. “He was supposed to get out of this place. He was better than this, than us.”

“Finn!” Puck yells, lunging out of bed and pulling on the first jeans he sees, the first shirt.

“Kurt killed himself,” Finn says. “On Wednesday. In the auditorium.”

Puck drops the phone.

.

Finn is in the den when Puck gets to the Hudson-Hummel house. Mr. Hummel is nowhere to be seen; Carole is baking. “Mom’s been making stuff since yesterday,” Finn tells Puck, voice bleak, tears on his face. “Burt hasn’t left me and—the basement.”

Puck drops down next to him and pulls Finn into his arms. “Who else knows?” he asks.

“The teachers,” Finn says. “The cops. You.”

“Oh, shit,” Puck mutters. “I don’t… I don’t get it. Why?”

Finn just cries. Puck just holds him. Carole bakes. Mr. Hummel doesn’t come up from the basement.

.

Sunday dawns with rain. Puck sends his fellow gleemates a text because he can’t handle nine calls with the same words. He ignores his cell after the text is sent, kidnaps Finn’s, and leaves the Hudmel phone off the hook.

He still hasn’t seen Mr. Hummel. He, Finn, and Carole have brownies for breakfast, snickerdoodles for lunch. He bunked with Finn in the master bedroom, the first time since junior high, while Carole slept on the couch, waiting for Mr. Hummel to come up.

.

Monday, Carole tells Mr. Hummel the arrangements she made. Puck and Finn skip school, go to a park on the edge of Lima, and flop down on the grass, looking up at the sky.

Principal Figgins announces at an assembly that Kurt Hummel killed himself Wednesday evening.

Mercedes calls Kurt, calls Finn, flees school in tears, the rest of the club on her heels.

.

The funeral is on Wednesday. Only Finn, Puck, and Mercedes have been gone from school all three days, but the whole club, most of the Cheerios, and half of the sophomore year attend.

Mr. Hummel cries. Finn clings to his mom and Puck, ignoring everyone else. Coach Sylvester reads the eulogy; by the end, tears pour down her face.

No one can find a note. 

.

_On Wednesday evening, as he was leaving school, tired and annoyed and with a headache pounding away, Will Schuster heard Kurt singing in the auditorium. He listened as Kurt finished “Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina”; he looked in the door and saw Kurt kneeling on the floor, arms slack and head down as the final line echoed around him._

_Will thought about going up to the stage, talking to Kurt, asking if anything was wrong. But his head hurt, and Kurt was so difficult at the best of times. And Kurt was tough. He’d be fine._

_So Will went home._

_On Thursday morning, he collapsed when he heard the news._

_(He’ll wonder till the day he dies if he could’ve saved Kurt Hummel that night.)_

.

_Kurt slashed his right arm first, with the sharpest knife from his kitchen, elbow to wrist. He sang half the song, then slashed the other, and finished his final performance._

_For the last verse, he let himself drop to his knees._

_He knew it was the best performance of his life, and he imagined a full house and cheering that raised the roof, and then he closed his eyes._

.

_On Thursday morning, a janitor called 911. The police called Burt Hummel, and he was with Carole Hudson when he answered._

_Kurt’s phone had ninety-seven missed calls when Finn checked it a week later. He listened to the thirty-nine voicemails, read the one hundred and seventeen texts, and kept crying._

_Puck was with him all the way. He didn’t talk to anyone else._

.

_Will Schuester quit McKinley on the Friday after the funeral. He never told a soul why._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By now Will Schuester is fairly used to walking into the choir room, auditorium or really anywhere in the school and finding one of his kids singing their heart out to an invisible audience. Most of the time he pulls them aside afterward to ask what's wrong, or gives them the applause they deserve. But this last week has been pretty intense, and he's exhausted, and even when he finds Kurt Hummel on his knees on the stage singing his heart out, Will can't help but think maybe he'll let this one time go until tomorrow. After all, he's tired and he has Spanish papers to grade, and maybe if he's lucky he can have a beer while he harvests his Farmville crops before bed.
> 
> He closes the door silently and walks away as Kurt's final note rings in his ear.
> 
> And back on that stage, on his knees while his slit wrists bleed, Kurt can't help but think that his last performance was certainly his best. It was just a pity no one had been there to see it.


	2. a handprint on my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: a handprint on my heart  
> Fandom: Glee/surprise crossover  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Wicked  
> Warnings: mentions of assault, bullying  
> Pairings: Kurt/Blaine  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 250  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: any, any, I feel we've met before, even though I know it's not true

"Excuse me," he hears, and he turns to see a boy out of uniform, smiling nervously. "I'm new here," the boy says. 

Blaine introduces himself, holding out a hand, and the boy says his name is Kurt, then asks, "What's going on?" 

Blaine grins up at him. "The Warblers!" he says. 

He knows this boy. Somehow, even though they've never met (he'd remember, oh, he would _definitely_ remember) he _knows_ this boy. 

.

He gives Kurt advice, helps him confront a kiss-stealer, mentors him, accidently obliviously hurts him, and finally realizes how much he loves him.

Through it all, he’s too familiar with Kurt. Treats him like a life-long friend instead of a fragile boy he just met. Kurt’s strong, so strong, stronger than Blaine has ever been, but it would’ve been so easily to break him in the early days. 

Kurt feels it too, he knows. Otherwise, why would he let Blaine in so far, so quickly? Kurt’s prickly at the best of times, defensive and cold. But he let Blaine all the way in, almost from day one.

It’s not normal. There’s something between them, something that says, _Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you forever_.

.

When Blaine remembers, he turns to look at Kurt. Kurt’s laughing with his dad, but he glances over, smiling, and Blaine knows that this might be the best life yet.

 _Don’t worry, my king_ , he thinks, walking over to lean into Kurt and nod along with his train of thought, _you’ll remember soon_.


	3. turn down the noise in my mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: turn down the noise in my mind  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Carly Simon  
> Warnings: mentions of non-con, child abuse, bullying, violence, language  
> Pairings: Shelby/Puck, OFCs/Puck, Ryerson/Puck  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 985  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt:
> 
> Shelby gives in and her relationship with Puck becomes a lot more serious. When Figgins finds out that Puck and Shelby have slept together he calls a meeting in his office. With Puck, Shelby, Will and Emma all the room, he explains what he's found out, expresses concern about it and then he fires Shelby.
> 
> Puck is so angry that he doesn't even realize what's coming out of his mouth until he finds himself asking why everyone cares so much that he slept with a teacher when he was eighteen and he wanted to when no one has ever cared that he slept with a teacher when he was fifteen and didn't.
> 
> Cue epic guilt as all Puck's previous hints about Mr. Ryerson come flying back into the other's minds.

For awhile, Puck thought he might be bi. He did a little research and learned that's what it was called if someone liked looking at both boys and girls.

His pool cleaning business was booming and he'd been having fun with cougars for two years when he decided he was totally straight and refused to look at guys like that ever again.

That was about the time he began tormenting Kurt Hummel, too.

.

He wasn't raped. He's watched some of Mom's Lifetime channel movies (always with her, understood?), and he knows that he wasn't raped because guys can't be raped. Especially not studly, tough boys by balding, chubby, sweaty music teachers. No how, no way.

Shut the fuck up and get out.

.

The cougars were fun, hot and demanding and such good teachers. Puck liked making them feel good, and most of them took care of him, too. No harm, no foul. Just fun.

But that thing that never happened… it wasn't fun at all. It hurt. And the worst part was, he _knows_ he could have stopped it, but he froze.

And that flamboyant little fag, Hummel… how could he _want_ something like that? He had to be punished.

Every time Hummel landed in the dumpster, every time he hit the lockers, it was like a punch in that monster's face, like a kick straight to his balls.

.

Shelby's hot. She's like a grown-up, not-crazy Rachel. All the good parts ( _fuck_ , but that _voice_ ) with none of the bad.

And, she's his daughter's mother. A responsible, successful, not-at-all-crazy mom for his kid. Nothing bad there.

His default with a hot woman is to flirt. And she smiles at him. She invites him over for time with Beth, three nights a week, and his baby girl is so sweet. He adored the thought of her, and then her as a newborn, and she's back now, all tufts of blonde hair and hazel eyes and the sweetest smile in the world. And Shelby lets him have that.

When he kisses her in thanks, she kisses back.

.

Puck needs to talk to someone. All of his options suck, and telling Quinn is a bad idea, he knows that as he's talking, but he's in _love_ with Shelby and he has to talk, okay?

And Quinn listens. She gets him to spill everything about Shelby, and that first night, and the three times since.

.

The next morning, Puck's called to Figgins' office, and Shelby and Ma and Schue and even Ms. Pillsbury are there.

"Puckerman," Figgins says, "please tell us the truth. Did you and Ms. Corcoran have sex?"

Puck looks at her, but she doesn't meet his eyes. He glances at Ma; she's hungover and tired and seems weary.

Schue says, "Puck, please. The truth."

"So what if we did?" Puck asks. "I'm eighteen."

Shelby closes her eyes. Schue's eyes widen, and Ms. Pillsbury gasps, and Ma sags down.

Figgins freaks the fuck out, and Ma meets him just as loud. Puck stares at him as he shouts about lawsuits and cops and never working in this town again, and Puck really doesn't get it. He's never seen Figgins like this before. From what Finn's told him, Figgins didn't act like this even when Karofsky threatened to kill Kurt. What the hell?

"Why is this a big deal?" Puck finally demands, and Ma and Figgins both stop shouting.

"Noah," Ms. Pillsbury says, "you're a student. Ms. Corcoran is an authority figure. Even if you _are_ legally an adult, she has power over you and she's taken advantage of it."

"How many times?" Ma cuts in, glaring at Shelby. "How many times, you bitch, did you put your hands on my son?"

"Why do you all give a shit now?" Puck doesn't mean to ask it. He knows that it's better if people don't know about the cougars, but he really doesn't get it. He was barely fourteen the first time he played with a cougar. If something was really wrong with it, then why did Vanessa take him to bed?

"Now?" Ma repeats, turning to face him. "Noah…"

Puck shakes his head. "I'm eighteen," he says again. "And I wanted it. Hell, I kissed her first. Why do you care now, when you didn't before?"

And, _oh_ , he did _not_ mean to say that.

"Before?" Schue parrots, and Puck's about done with this.

"Yeah, _before_ ," Puck says. He looks at Figgins, at the spineless bastard who let him torment kids for so long, and who still gives bullies full run, and he shakes his head again. "I know I should'a fought, but I didn't – I was so scared, and I think he slipped me somethin' 'cause I knew _then_ I should'a fought. But no one noticed."

Ma's mouth drops open. "You mean," she starts. "I noticed… you just got so angry, out of nowhere, and I didn't know what to do." She begins crying and Puck cringes. He hates making Ma cry.

Figgins hisses, "Ryerson."

Puck winces, and his eyes hit the floor.

"Oh, fuck," Schue mutters.

Someone touches Puck's shoulder; he flinches back, and can't be there anymore.

He runs.

.

Finn's the one who finds him later, because they're still each other's boys.

"How you doin'?" he asks, dropping beside Puck in their super-secret hideout from when they were eight years old.

"I'm fine," Puck says.

Finn nudges his shoulder. "I know we've had our problems," Finn says quietly, sounding like the boy who let Puck cry all over him and share his bed for a week after Dad left. "But I'll listen, Noah. If you wanna talk."

Puck doesn't want to talk. He really doesn't.

He takes a deep breath. "You know about the cougars?" he asks. Finn nods. Puck says, "That's how it all started."

Finn doesn't interrupt. And when Puck starts crying, Finn leans in and offers his shoulder, and lets Puck cry.


	4. what is he running from, the world or the end of it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: what is he running from, the world or the end of it?  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: supernatural!AU; character death  
> Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Santana/Brittany, Burt/Carole  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 380  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: “A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.”

"Don't be sad," Brittany says, dropping beside him. She rests her head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around him, and he really wants to turn to her, cuddle in as close as he can, and sob.

Kurt's been gone for three weeks.

.

The thing is, Blaine knows it's not his fault. He really does. Even Burt told him so, and if anyone were going to blame him, he knows it'd be Kurt's dad.

But Burt doesn't hate him. No one does. That makes everything worse.

.

Rachel tried singing to him, right after. Mercedes hadn't stopped crying at that point, and Santana was yelling about something that didn't matter, and Puck was still cutting class, and Finn walked around in a daze.

Nobody knew what to do, so Rachel tried the thing that had worked before.

It didn't, not then and not now. Blaine hasn't sung since.

He's pretty sure he'll never sing again.

.

_'Sweetie,' Kurt says, curling up next to him in bed, brushing his fingers through Blaine's hair. 'What are you doing?'_

_'Grieving,' Blaine mutters, eyes closed. He knows he's dreaming._

_'Do you think I want you to just... **exist** like this forever?' Kurt asks. 'You need to start living again, Blaine. Mourn, if you must, but **live** , too.'_

_Blaine shakes his head, turning and opening his eyes. Kurt's there, smiling sadly. Solid and beautiful. 'I can't do this without you, Kurt,' he says._

_Kurt bites his lip, meeting Blaine's eyes. 'If I... you could join me, Blaine. I mean, we couldn't stay here, of course. And, god, I miss Dad. But you... you haven't even begun to move on, so I think...'_

_'Yes,' Blaine says. 'Please.'_

_Slowly, Kurt reaches up and rests his hand on the back of Blaine's neck, where it meets his skull. 'Are you sure?' he whispers._

_Blaine nods._

.

"I don't understand," Rachel sobs. Finn just buries his face in her hair, unable to stop his own sobs.

Burt wanders around the house, staring at pictures of Kurt. Mom bakes up a storm, and the glee club practically moves in.

Only Brittany doesn't cry. She just asks Santana, "Why's everyone so sad? They're still singing. Can't you hear?"

Santana pats her hand, wiping at her tears. "Sure, Britt," she mutters.

Brittany shrugs and tilts her head, smiling.


	5. Venus is taught with Dian’s wings to fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Venus is taught with Dian’s wings to fly  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Sidney  
> Warnings: AU  
> Pairings: Kurt/Mercedes, Kurt/OMCs  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 445  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Glee, Kurt/Mercedes (friendship or relationship), He looks at her sometimes and wonders how things might have been if he was different. He thinks he likes it.

In another world, where Kurt kept parts of himself tucked tightly away, where he wore flannel and his father's trucker hats and rarely spoke, where he never sang, he was befriended by a boisterous girl named for her father's first paycheck in his corner office.

Kurt stayed in the background; Mercedes made sure the world noticed her. She entered the room and people looked up, while Kurt followed in her wake.

They experimented together, went to college in New York together, moved in together, and married a year after Mercedes graduated law school. Kurt had a communication studies degree and a job he hated; Mercedes became a lawyer, focusing on children’s rights. They barely saw each other.

Kurt thought he was happy. Mercedes knew he wasn’t. So after a long week at the office, when they were both worn down and weary, she swept him into a whirlwind vacation and took him to California, leaving their dreary apartment in the dust.

Pretty boys flirted with Kurt beneath California’s sun; Mercedes grinned, sipping her daiquiri by the pool. After a quick glance at Mercedes and seeing her nod, Kurt let himself flirt back.

In their room the next morning, Kurt pulled Mercedes into a passionate kiss and thanked her. “You’re the best girl a boy could have,” he told her. 

“I just want you happy,” she replied, staring up at him, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Are you happy, Kurt?”

He thought for a moment, leaning down to kiss her again. “I am, ‘Cedes. I promise.”

When they went home, Kurt sang in the shower and the kitchen and the den as he slaved over information for a boss he didn’t like. Mercedes got caught up in a nasty case that couldn’t end happily no matter what, and Kurt listened to her rant, and finally he sat her down, put a bowl of chocolate mousse in front of her, and said, “Are you happy, Mercedes?”

She thought for a moment, looking at her mousse. “No,” she said quietly.

“Neither am I,” he admitted, dipping his finger in the mousse and licking it off. “What are we doing here?” 

Mercedes shrugged. 

Kurt set aside the bowl and grabbed her hands, waiting until she looked him in the eye. “’Cedes,” he said, “let’s go to California.” 

She nodded, starting to smile. 

They left behind their dreary apartment, jobs that would break them before long, and lives they’d never wanted.

Kurt flirted with pretty boys but always went home to Mercedes. He found a new job, a better job; Mercedes decided to teach. And on the weekends, they’d go to karaoke bars and light up the stage.


	6. Don't ask me when I learned love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Don't ask me when I learned love  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Adrienne Rich  
> Warnings: takes place during senior year; spoilers for season 2  
> Pairings: post-Kurt/Blaine; Kurt/Karofsky  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 490  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Glee, Kurt/Karofsky + Burt, meeting the parents (again)

"Dad," Kurt says while he takes apart an engine just for fun.

Burt looks up from the invoices; he knows that tone from experience. Kurt's going to ask for something he wants, something Burt _really_ isn't going to like. "Yeah, kiddo?" he asks, already steeling himself.

"I—there's a boy," Kurt says, eyes flicking over to Burt before looking back down. "And I really like him, Dad. And I want him to come over and meet you."

Burt sets down his pen and turns in his chair. He stares at Kurt until Kurt looks up again. "A boy from school?" Burt asks. It's only been five months since Blaine and Kurt decided they'd be better as friends. Burt liked Blaine well enough. Probably more than whoever Kurt's about to name.

Kurt nods.

"It's not..." Burt tries not to let his distaste show. "Finn's friend with the mohawk, right?"

Kurt's entire body recoils. "Eww, no!" he says, shuddering. "Ugh. Puck's made massive strides in being a human, but I can't ever see myself dating him." He pauses, before musing, "He is gorgeous, though. Such a shame."

"Who is it, then, Kurt?" Burt asks.

"Well," Kurt stalls, "you _have_ met him, Dad. A few times. And he's so much better than he used to be, and he really is a sweetheart when he's not panicking, and he's terrified that you're going to shoot him on sight."

Oh, _shit_. "No," Burt growls, hands clenching. "Not just no, but _hell no_." He tries to stay calm, he really does. "You are not dating that Karofsky boy, not _ever_."

"Um." Kurt looks away again, and he's clearly fighting his own temper to keep from saying something truly vicious. "We've been dating for three weeks, Dad."

Burt sags back against his chair. "He said he'd _kill_ you, Kurt. You remember that? Chased you outta your own school for months." Seriously, how the hell did this happen? When did they even spend enough time together for this to happen? Burt knew he should've taken his flamethrower to that school, and strangled Karofsky when he had the chance.

"Dad," Kurt says softly, and he walks over to wrap his arms around Burt. "He's really been trying. He's so different now. A lot of what happened… well, he's come to terms with some things, and I want you to meet him as he is _now_. The boy his dad talked about in that meeting right before I left Dalton."

Burt looks up at him, at this man his son is growing into. "You really like him?"

Kurt smiles. "I really do, Dad."

Sighing, Burt stands and pulls his boy into a proper hug. "Bring him by on Saturday," Burt says. "I'll sit him down for a good talking to."

Kurt bounces in place and presses a quick kiss to Burt's cheek, before skipping back to the engine. He starts belting out that loud "Bad Romance" song and Burt can't help smiling.


	7. Then they came for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: then they came for me  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: mentions of bullying; suicidal ideation; AUish for the end of season 3  
> Pairings: Kurt/Blaine  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 515  
> Point of view: second  
> Prompt: Any, any, Then they came for me - and there was no one left to speak for me.

Kurt Hummel had never been popular. He'd also never been invisible. 

(Not entirely accurate, you think - yes, the teachers never saw how bad things got, his friends didn't notice how close he came to a sharp knife and final sleep... but, for those few, terrifying weeks, he was all Dave Karofsky thought about. So. He wasn't invisible, though he'd wished he was.)

Kurt stood up to the bullies every time he climbed out of the dumpster, every time he straightened his spine after hitting the lockers, every time he held his head high and walked through the halls. Every time he sang, every time he dressed in the morning, every time he held hands with his boyfriend.

He pulled attention, yes. And no one (no, not even you) noticed it was intentional. Noticed that as the months passed, before his father sent him away, that he was the focus. 

Because Kurt Hummel was strong. He could take it all, and keep going. And when he came back, for that charade of Santana and Karofsky (yes, of course you knew, _everyone_ knew), things were better. 

And he did. He took it all, chin tilted defiantly, and he stood on that stage, crowned queen, and he danced with his boyfriend, and it was like he was lit up inside. 

Kurt Hummel had never been popular. Never been invisible. Never been untouchable. And he was strong, so strong. And during his senior year, the bullying stuck to intangibles – verbal barbs and glares, mostly. No one tried to throw him in a dumpster, or anyone. No more port-a-potty torments. Not even locker-slams. A few slushy facials, but nothing memorable. 

Because something was different. Karofsky vanished and tried to kill himself, and Kurt Hummel’s boyfriend sauntered down McKinley’s halls like he owned the world, and no one voted for Hummel when he ran for president – but no one knocked him down, either. 

Everyone else was panicking, and Kurt held his head high. (Yes, you watched. Of course you did.) 

(Yes, he came close to a sharp knife and a final sleep again. But he was strong. So strong. Strong like you wanted to be. Strong like you’ve never been.)

On graduation day, Kurt Hummel walked across that stage, head held high, and blushed when his boyfriend blew him a kiss. Pretty soon, he’d leave Lima in the dust and go far away, like he’d always planned.

(On graduation day, you stare at Kurt Hummel and wish that, even once, you’d defended him. 

Because just by walking down the hall, he’d defended you.

Kurt Hummel had never been invisible. And because he wasn’t, you could be. 

Because he wasn’t, the bullies never noticed you.

And now he was leaving. Taking everything that was different with him. 

Next year, there will be dumpster dives. Port-a-potty torments, unless Figgins comes to his senses, and how likely is that? Locker slams, probably. Slushy facials, definitely. 

You wish you were brave. Wish you could hold your head high and defy. 

But you are not Kurt Hummel. And you can only hope that next year, you’re still invisible.)


	8. better to die than to crawl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: better to die than to crawl  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Newsies  
> Warnings: AU for Blame it on the Alcohol  
> Pairings: mentions of Rachel/Blaine, Kurt/Blaine  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 330  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: 
> 
> Rachel: I deserve to be happy too, you don't know how lonely I am!
> 
> Kurt: You think you're lonely? How many boyfriends did you had? How many dates you went?
> 
> Rachel: Some!
> 
> Kurt: Exactly! Do you know how many boyfriends I had? No? I never had a boyfriend! Every guy I like ends kissing and dating you first, even the gay ones! So don't come near me saying that you're lonely because you don't know anything about being fucking lonely! You can have a crush at any guy you want but me, myself, have to be cautious with who my heart beats faster for! There'll be a possibility that the guy may kill me if I get too close to him!
> 
> (Sorry about my terrible English! But this came to my mind and I had to write it here!)

He stares at her in stunned disbelief. Somewhere beneath the hurt and betrayal, he's so angry. He wasn't this angry when he was being tossed in dumpsters or shoved against lockers - he's never been this angry before. Not even at Karofsky. 

None of the boys who hurt him were his friends, not then. But Rachel... 

“I deserve to be happy, too!” she shouts. “You don't know how lonely I am!”

She had two boys chasing her last year, and went out with a third. She got the boy they both wanted. She can stare at any boy she wants, and flirt with any boy she so desires, and... it's just not fair. And it hurts. It hurts _so much_ , because she’s always talking about her two gay dads and _she still doesn’t get it._

And he has a thousand different things he could yell at her. He could absolutely shred her and leave her in tears. 

And she’d go running right into a boy’s arms, and no one would even fucking _care._

So he drops the bag, and he turns, and he walks away. 

Let her date Blaine. Let her have another boy. Let her have this almost-friendship, and all the solos, and whatever her minuscule heart desires. 

“Kurt!” she calls. “Kurt, where are you going? We still have this mess to clean up.”

He could say so many things. Shout so many more. But he holds his head high, and carefully walks up the stairs, and gently closes the door behind him.

There’s a world out there, away from Lima and its tiny little piece of sky. There’s a whole world waiting for him, and billions of boys to choose from. 

She can’t even steal Blaine from him – Blaine was never his. Blaine clearly doesn’t want him, or see him like that at all. And when Rachel inevitably drops him for the next shiny toy (or the same old dull toy), Kurt will be the best friend Blaine ever had.


	9. talk fades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: talk fades  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Adrienne Rich  
> Warnings: takes place after 2.20  
> Pairings: Blaine/Kurt, unrequited Dave/Kurt  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 275  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: At prom, Dave asks Blaine/Kurt's permission to cut in for a chance to dance with Kurt. Could be fluff with a side of angst. (Klaine, one-sided Kurtofsky)

In Dave's dreams, prom goes differently.

Sometimes, Kurt smiles at him and takes a deep breath and walks across the floor and asks Dave to dance. Dave blushes, but it's a dream, so he doesn't look around and no one stares and Kurt feels _so good_ pressed against him (it's always a slow dance), and Dave rests his chin on Kurt's head, and the song ends and they pull apart and Kurt smiles up at him, and Dave leans down, and this kiss goes _so much better_.

Sometimes, Dave mans up and cuts a swath across the floor and firmly taps the fancy-pants hobbit on the shoulder. Kurt still smiles, and they dance in each other’s arms, and it is the best moment of Dave’s life. Kurt (because it’s a dream, Dave figures) smells like the cookies Nan used to make, the ones Mom never gets right. And he kisses Dave first, pressing up and taking what he wants, what Dave _wants_ him to have, and Dave never ever wants to wake up.

But he always does, and prom had been good, up until Dave ran away. He had his chance, but he watched Kurt’s boyfriend man up and dance with him in front of everyone, showing how much _better_ he is.

In reality, Dave still escorts Kurt to and from class. Kurt still gives him little pep-talks and assures him coming out won’t be the end of the world. Kurt smiles at him, but not the smile he wants, the smile the boyfriend gets.

Dave wants to be Kurt’s boyfriend. And in his dreams, he is.

Maybe one day, he’ll be Kurt’s boyfriend awake, too.


	10. this ain't a fairytale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: this ain’t a fairytale  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Taylor Swift  
> Warnings: future!fic; Blaine never existed  
> Pairings: post-Puck/Kurt  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 445  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Puck/Kurt set to White Horse by Taylor Swift

Kurt always knew it wasn't forever. It was obvious, really. High school romances rarely lasted, not when the real world came calling. He was always leaving Lima, meant for bright lights and city nights, for something bigger and better than a one-horse, homophobic town in Ohio. 

But for awhile, he let himself believe. Puck had come such a long way since dumpster dives. Amazing how far, really. They actually walked down the hall holding hands. Actually kissed on the front steps. No one dared touch Kurt while he was Puck's. Six months of perfection.

Six months. That's how long it took Puck to stray. And it shouldn't hurt so much, because everyone warned him that Puck had a wandering eye. 

And now it's the week before finals, their senior year. Kurt's already been accepted to NYU, and then he's out of Lima. Lima'll be a speck in the rearview and he'll get his bright lights, his city nights, freedom to do anything and be anyone he wants. 

He hasn't spoken to Puck in three months, not since he found him _in flagrante delicto_. Puck quit trying to apologize two months and seventeen days ago, when he found himself a girl (not even the one he’d cheated with!) and proceeded have a tongue-war with her in every public location he could think of.

But now, the week before finals, when Kurt can actually see his freedom, Puck shows up at his house and falls to his knees, and begs forgiveness. Says he’s so sorry, and such a dumbass, and always ruins everything, and Kurt’s the best thing to ever happen to him, and please, please, take him back.

Kurt stares down at him, completely at a loss for words. It’s nothing Puck hasn’t said before, almost three months ago. And he wants to believe him, really he does. But New York is within sprinting distance now, and Puck…

Puck is not his Prince Charming. He’s always known he wouldn’t find Prince Charming here, in Lima. 

So Kurt promises to think about it and shuts the door in Puck’s face.

Mr. Schue tells them their last assignment is to sing goodbye songs to someone in the club. Kurt asks to go last.

He cheers all the other graduating seniors for their songs, even Puck’s, and then stands before his friends. He asks Brad and the band for no accompaniment, and then he locks gazes with Puck and doesn’t look away until the last note of 

_Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa_  
_Try and catch me now_  
_Oh, it's too late _  
_To catch me now_ __

fades away. Puck clenches his jaw and lowers his eyes.

Even Puck can’t mistake that answer.


	11. all things that rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: all things that rise  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: very much future!fic; remembered violence/assault  
> Pairings: I really can’t say (that’ll ruin it!)  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 475  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Kurt Hummel will forever remember his Junior Prom night as the night he lost his faith in basic human kindness.

Later, when he's rich and famous and known for dressing the stars, he sits down in his home-office and handwrites out parts of his memoirs. He doesn’t flinch away from brutal honesty – he never has in forty years – and he records everything. 

Slushy facials. Locker slams. Dumpster dives. Insults and slurs, so many they stop hurting. 

A locker-room kiss, stalking, terror, a death threat. 

Much of his story was already known as he sat down to write, of course. But some, even decades after the fact, has never before been revealed. He uses their names. He channels all the rage he never let out, the rage he still feels whenever he thinks of those days. He uses the despair, and the pain. 

It is a little cathartic. He feels slightly better, finally exorcizing a few of his demons. So many people remember those years as the best of their lives. But his best years came later.

He is rich now. He is famous. The world’s most beautiful faces jockey for his favor. 

“Come to bed, love,” his husband murmurs, leaning over his back and kissing behind his ear. 

“In a minute,” he replies just as softly, raising a hand to cup his husband’s face. “I’m about to write about prom.” 

“Which one?” 

Kurt’s pen stills. That’s right. “You weren’t there,” he murmurs. He turns his head, a breath away, and his husband closes the distance with a deep kiss. 

He had lost his faith in basic human kindness that night. It was a wound that festered within him, and while he had never loved Blaine more than he did as they danced in that horribly-decorated gym, everything was poisoned and tainted for a very long time. 

None of his friendships from high-school survived the transition to college. Few of his college friendships survived his trudging climb to the top. 

“Come to bed,” his husband entreats, tugging on his hands. “Tell me.” 

“I love you,” he whispers, standing. 

His junior prom was one of the lowest points of his life. It ruined things for so long… _but_. 

“I love you so much, Charlie,” Kurt says, pulling Charlie close. “You saved me.” 

“I love you, too,” Charlie says. “But you saved yourself. Now, are you coming?” 

“Of course,” Kurt says, following him, their hands still entwined. 

(He’ll come back to the memoirs tomorrow; the words will still hurt, will still rage, will still despair… but hope will glimmer over them, because the story will end so far from where it started.

And when Blaine’s latest hit plays on the radio, Kurt will pull Charlie into a dance and they’ll laugh their way around the kitchen, and Kurt will wonder, for the first time in a long time, what all those children he used to know are doing now. 

Maybe he’ll track them down and see.)


	12. tired of all the dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: tired of all the dead  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton  
> Warnings: takes place in senior year  
> Pairings: implied unrequited Karofsky/Kurt  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 125  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Author's Choice, Author's Choice, _Try to realise it's all within yourself/No one else can make you change/And to see you're really only very small/And life flows on within you and without you_ (Within You Without You)

Kurt dreams about changing the world. Of course he does. Every kid does. He'll make everything better for his generation and every generation that follows. 

It won't be easy. He's going against decades of training and idiocy and people afraid of change. 

But today, Azimio Adams stopped a humongous freshman from yelling a slur at Kurt. Dave stood next to him, fists clenched, glaring at the kid, and the boy cowered back, fleeing without even a single glance at Kurt.

“Thank you,” Kurt said. 

Azimio scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Didn’t do it for you,” he said, walking away. Dave followed, one look directed Kurt’s way. 

Kurt smiled, watching them go. Azimio didn’t do it for him, no… but he _did_ it.

His dream gets closer every day.


	13. For all the world’s wealth I would not stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: For all the world’s wealth I would not stay  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Sir Gawain and the Green Knight  
> Warnings: spoilers for 3.13; mentions of stalking/violence/assault/bullying; panic attack  
> Pairings: unrequited Karofsky/Kurt; Kurt/Blaine  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 465  
> Point of view: third  
> Note: Let's just say that in the spirit of fairness, since they were going to let Finn spend the night at Rachel's, Kurt's parents let him stay at Blaine's.  
> Prompt: Spoilers for 3.12 Heart--Kurt, Karofsky, stalking/previous fears resufacing  
> "It's the fear that's the worst. I never know when it's coming. I can't concentrate. I don't feel like I'm a part of this school at all. I feel like I'm in a horror movie where this creature follows me around terrifying me and there's nothing I can do about it."
> 
> \- Kurt's speech about Karofsky in Furt.
> 
> Now, a year later, Karofsky follows Kurt around in a gorilla suit, putting things in his locker, and writing things like "be mine forever" and drawing Kurt away from the crowd under false pretenses so they can be alone.
> 
> Kurt thought he had forgiven him. He thought they could be friends. He thought he was over this nightmare. He thought everything was okay now, damnit.
> 
> But it's really, really not.
> 
> (tl;dr: Kurt relapses/has a panic attack when he realizes, post-Valentine's Day, just what all Karofsky did as his secret admirer, and how much it reminds him of how Karofsky was at his absolute worst.)

It isn't until that night, his arms around Blaine as they fall asleep, that Kurt finally lets himself think about his 'secret admirer.' About who spent the week following him around, disguised, writing him notes and leaving things in his locker. 

He’d _gotten past it_. He forgave Karofsky _ages_ ago. They sat in Scandals and talked like adults, and Kurt thought they’d ended things on a good note. Karofsky had matured as a person, and Kurt was _happy_ for him. Really happy.

But to think, for even one minute… Kurt shudders and shifts around, so that he can tuck his head beneath Blaine’s chin. Blaine, his boyfriend. Blaine, his savior. Blaine, who drove almost two hours the day after they met just because Kurt called him.

Kurt has spent the week telling everyone about his secret admirer, about how wonderful his boyfriend was, how romantic, how sweet. And tomorrow, when everyone asks (will anyone ask?), what does he say? He can’t possibly explain without going back to the beginning, and what’s the point of drudging all that up again?

“Kurt?” Blaine mumbles, arms tightening around him. “Y’kay?” 

“Fine,” Kurt murmurs. 

He tries his hardest to shake it all off. To reach that point he had before Breadstix, where he’d forgiven everything and buried it deep. 

The only dream he remembers in the morning is being trapped in the locker room, Karofsky’s hands on him, and Karofsky’s voice whispering in his ear, _You’re mine forever_. 

He wakes up crying to Blaine’s panicked questions, and lunges off the bed, hurrying to the toilet so he can purge all the candy from his body. 

Of course, that doesn’t reassure Blaine at all. But he just crouches next to Kurt, supports his weight, and keeps up a steady murmur of, “You’re alright, it’ll be okay, you’re okay, it’ll be alright.” 

He can feel bruises on his back, bruises he hasn’t had in over a year. He feels tainted, and sick, and he can’t stop shuddering. 

“Babe,” Blaine says, “please. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

It’s like the week they met all over again. He’d _gotten past this_. Karofsky had moved on, Kurt had forgiven him, and it was all _over_. 

But it’s not. Karofsky spent a week stalking him. Let him think it was Blaine, and honestly seemed to think they could ever be together. Kurt heaves again, and Blaine says, “Kurt.” 

Kurt falls back against him and asks, “Please just hold me.” 

So Blaine does. They go back to bed and burrow beneath the covers, and Kurt stutters out the whole thing, and Blaine clenches his jaw, but his hands are gentle on Kurt’s skin. 

“I love you,” Blaine tells him. 

Kurt’s smile is shaky and he closes his eyes and he listens to Blaine hum ‘Somewhere Only We Know.’


	14. might I kiss those eyes of fire?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: might I kiss those eyes of fire?  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Lord Byron  
> Warnings: future!fic; dark  
> Pairings: Kurt/Blaine  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 175  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: 'I don't care what you do to them, just be good to me' Lyric taken from Professor Green 'just be good to green' but likely another song to. Do with this what you will.

They keep trophies in a storage locker under Kurt's mother's maiden name. They're all small; a button, a ring, a shoelace. Unnoticeable without the necessary knowledge.

They take turns picking and striking. Only twice have they done it together, and that was their fifth anniversary and a month after Kurt’s magazine got off the ground.

It started out as Kurt’s idea, after McKinley’s jocks went too far and broke two of Blaine’s ribs. He still has a letterman jacket tucked away in the back of the storage locker. Blaine was the only one to figure it out, and he simply kissed Kurt.

The next time Kurt felt the urge, he pulled Blaine to him and whispered, “Give me a name.”

A dozen trophies over ten years. Once a month Kurt goes to the locker and sorts through them, rearranging as he sees fit. Blaine doesn’t need the reminders; he has memories for that. But he indulges Kurt like he always has.

“My turn,” he says, leaning down to kiss Kurt’s pulse. “Give me a name.”


	15. Remember music and beware

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Remember music and beware  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Anne Sexton  
> Warnings: past child molestation  
> Pairings: past Sandy Ryerson/Kurt  
> Rating: PG13  
> Wordcount: 475  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Burt finds out that Sandy Ryerson has been sexually abusing Kurt.  
> Note: Takes place in senior year. The molestation occurred in ninth grade and lasted about five months. Kurt never told anyone, and it made the whole Karofsky situation much worse for Kurt. Also, up to reader if it included actual anal penetration.

When he figures it out, Burt rests his head gently against the wall and closes his eyes, taking deep, even breaths. _in, out_ wring that bastard’s neck _in, out_ oh, Kurt, no no no _in, out. in, out. in, out_

Kurt's looking at him. "Dad, it's fine," he says, but his voice is shaking, higher than it's been in a long while. "Please, Dad, don't—" And he can't even finish the thought.

That bastard touched his son. That bastard _hurt_ his son. For months. Years ago. And Burt didn't know. Figured it was standard bullying, the kind Kurt didn't want him getting involved in. Burt had been a dumb kid once. And, yeah, he wanted to take a flamethrower to every single person who ever hurt his kid, but Kurt had to learn to fight his own battles.

But this... this is a battle Burt should have fought and won a long time ago.

"Oh, Kurt," he murmurs. _in, out_

He's never wanted to kill anyone so much. Not even that Karofsky kid.

"How old were you?" he asks, like it matters. Nothing matters except that his son didn't want it, was clearly too young to know what it even was.

"Dad," Kurt says. "Please."

Kurt will never talk about it, if he gets his way. Burt knows that. Kurt will want to forget, pretend, smile and laugh and kiss Blaine without explaining why he doesn't want to go further. (And Burt will find himself forgiving the kid for that sleepover debacle because he respects each of Kurt's boundaries like he's a Disney prince.)

Burt reaches out, and Kurt throws himself forward, burying his face in Burt's chest. They're the same height now, but Kurt feels so small in his arms. Like the baby Burt once cradled in his palms.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Kurt whispers, and Burt imagines that bastard’s face breaking beneath his hands, that bastard’s bones shattering and splintering, sledgehammer and tire iron and SUV.

“We have to report him,” Burt says. His baby boy whimpers, trying to burrow further in, hands grasping Burt’s shirt. “Please, Kurt.” He doesn’t want to force Kurt – nobody should ever force him to do anything ever again – but they need to tell the police. Even if nothing comes of it.

He wants to kill the bastard. He already has half a dozen ideas. Kurt’s sobbing into his shirt, and Burt’s not far behind him, and he should have known.

 _in, out_ He should have known. _in, out. in, out. in, out_ If the police don’t do something, he’ll kill the bastard and bury the body somewhere no one will find it. It’s not like anyone would miss him.

 _in, out_ “I love you, Kurt,” he says, holding his son.

Kurt just cries, hands fisted in Burt’s shirt, and it’s a long time before he stops.


	16. here lie the also-rans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: here lie the also-rans  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> Warnings: future!fic; character death  
> Pairings: Karofsky/Puck, unrequited Karofsky/Kurt, mentions of Kurt/OMC  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 605  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Glee, any, "Tall Tales"

The first year Dave Karofsky coaches football and teaches freshman math at McKinley, he hears about the most successful grad the school ever had: Kurt Hummel. Hummel's on Broadway and headlining record-breaking movies and writing music for all the biggest artists. He has his own fashion line and designs all sorts of shit, and Dave just shakes his head. None of it surprises him.

The second year, Hummel apparently donates enough money to McKinley to keep the arts program running for two decades. Sylvester's successor nearly has an aneurism. Dave laughs.

The third year, Hummel publishes a guide for gay kids on how to survive high-school. The world's a better place, but there are still pockets of small-minded fuckers everywhere; Dave reads the book and tries not to cringe when he gets to the parts that obliquely mention him.

The fourth year, it's been a decade since they all graduated high-school. Dave goes to the reunion. Hummel doesn't.

The fifth year, Hummel wins about a dozen different awards and does a world tour and nearly dies in a plane crash. About a billion people send well-wishes and flowers, and sales of his stuff skyrocket. Dave gives his players a talk about following their dreams instead of their parents', and four players join a club: one drama, one reading, and two glee.

The sixth year, Hummel comes home for seven months. He assures his fans he'll be back; he's just resting. Needs to reconnect with his family. He writes and designs some of his greatest works during those months, and he wanders around Lima ignoring the stares and paparazzi (who, thankfully, lose interest quickly when nothing happens). Dave thinks about approaching him, apologizing again. Maybe asking Hummel for a date. By the time he works up the courage, Hummel's on the way to New York.

The seventh year, Hummel marries a sci-fi writer no one's ever paid attention to and the last state holding out against gay marriage gives in. Dave reads about the wedding and beats the ever-loving shit out of his punching bag. He nearly breaks his right hand.

The eighth year, Dave dates three different men and ignores Hummel the best he can.

The ninth year, Noah Puckerman is hired by McKinley as an English teacher. They sit together at lunch and pretend to have never met before. His second week, Dave asks him out for coffee. Noah says yes.

The tenth year, Hummel has a messy divorce and Dave moves in with Noah.

The eleventh year, Noah takes Dave to the coffee shop where they had their first date and says, "Marry me." Dave smiles and says yes.

The twelfth year, Dave's team wins the state championship and Noah's glee club comes in second at nationals. They celebrate by backpacking across Europe for a month.

The thirteenth year, it's been two decades since graduation. Dave and Noah go to the reunion; so does Hummel. They bump into each other at the punch bowl. Hummel is still the most successful grad McKinley's ever had, and his success just keeps growing. He doesn't look happy, though. They make small-talk and Dave remembers a desperate kiss in a locker-room, and all the fucked up months that followed. He squeezes Noah's hand and gives him a gentle kiss. Hummel smiles sadly, says it was good talking to them, and wanders away.

There is no fourteenth year. Noah buries Dave in the fall and quits McKinley. He heads south, searching for a warmth he never really finds. Meanwhile, in New York, Hummel eats a bullet and achieves immortality.

(Hummel will always be the most successful grad McKinley ever had.)


	17. what mirror to render

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: what mirror to render  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Adrienne Rich  
> Warnings: AUish; dark  
> Pairings: pre-Kurt/Puck  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 290  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: intolerant

Blood drips into the sink. Kurt’s hands are trembling and he avoids looking in the mirror—he knows what he’d see. Adrenaline courses through him, and he’s sure that he should regret it, that he should feel bad about it…

But he doesn’t. He can’t. He’s tired of taking it and taking it and _taking it_ , and he’s done being afraid.

His cell rings, the obnoxious tone that means Noah Puckerman is calling.

(He’d watched with wide eyes and sworn to clean up the evidence. Kurt decided to trust him. There was a new respect in Puck’s gaze, and Kurt met it straight-on.)

“On my way,” Puck says. “You and me need to have words.”

Kurt hangs up and goes back to washing his hands.

He killed a boy tonight. Dad’s on a date with Carole; they’ll be back late. Finn’s out with Quinn. He’ll be back later.

And Kurt will be talking to Puck about murder. He can’t believe this is happening.

He also can’t regret it.

Kurt meets his reflection’s gaze and dries his hands. A good host offers refreshments, so he goes downstairs to raid the pantry.

He’s done taking harassment and abuse. He’s done raising his chin and surviving it. Yeah, he’s getting out of this town someday, but he doesn’t have to hurt all the time.

Puck lets himself in and Kurt calls, “The kitchen!” He looks up with a smile; Puck’s scrubbed clean and he nods, so Kurt knows the scene is, too.

“I had fun tonight,” Puck says.

Kurt smiles again, setting a plate of fruit and crackers on the counter in front of Puck. “Me, too,” he says.

A heartbeat of silence, then Puck asks, “Any plans to do it again?”

Kurt’s still smiling.


	18. I’ll tell you how the sun rose a ribbon at a time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’ll tell you how the sun rose a ribbon at a time  
> Fandom: Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dickinson  
> Warnings: mentions of attempted suicide; so much fluff; AU for season 2  
> Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, pre-Kurt/Puck, unrequited Karofsky/Kurt  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 965  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: is spoilery, so will be at the end

The first time Puck lets the perfect opportunity for a dirty comment pass by, no one notices it. Or the second, or the third, or the fifteenth. Later, Kurt will feel bad about that, but the whole Karofsky thing is heating up, and his Dad is engaged, and things spiral out of control.

And then Kurt’s at Dalton, and doesn’t see day in and day out how _wrong_ Puck is acting. Not until Finn invites Puck over for the weekend, as an attempt to reconnect with his once-best friend, and Kurt sees him in the hall, still wet from the shower, and the brand-new scar going from his wrist to his elbow. The kind of scar that might be accidental, but more than likely isn’t. 

“Fuck, Hummel!” Puck yells, turning so that his left arm isn’t visible. “Warn a guy.”

Kurt isn’t supposed to be home. No one is. Finn had an early morning shift at Sheets N Things, and Carole and Dad went on a breakfast date. And Kurt was supposed to have been at Mercedes’ until later this morning, but they had an argument about Blaine and he came in late last night (or very early this morning, whichever.)

And usually, Kurt would be very careful about not looking at Puck while he’s only wearing a towel, but there are marks on his right arm that are more… fresh. As in, just-now-in-the-shower-fresh. “Puck,” he whispers. “Puck, what the hell.” 

Puck isn’t meeting his eyes. So Kurt takes a deep breath and swallows his fear and residual anger, and he says, “Get dressed. Meet me in the kitchen. You have five minutes or I will drag you there by your ear.”

He watches Puck trudge away until he slips into Finn’s room. 

0o0

Kurt throws together a breakfast of toast and fruit, and waits. At exactly five minutes, Puck slides into the chair across from him, dressed in long sleeves and jeans. Kurt remembers that Puck quit wearing short sleeves right after he got back from juvie. Another sign everyone missed.

“You never went to juvie,” Kurt says. Puck shakes his head and takes a piece of toast. “You tried to kill yourself.” Puck nods and spears a strawberry with his fork.

Kurt sags back against his chair. He isn’t qualified to deal with this. 

A few moments pass in silence. Puck doesn’t look at Kurt and Kurt can’t look away from Puck. “Will you… have you tried again?” 

Puck very carefully doesn’t respond and Kurt closes his eyes.  
0o0

After breakfast, Kurt herds Puck into his room and softly orders him to sit. Kurt is disgusted with himself and everyone else who knows Puck—how could nobody have noticed how _different_ he is? The old Puck would’ve never let himself be pushed around like this. Never have been so docile, so hesitant, so quiet.

“Give me a month,” Kurt says. “A month of you not hurting yourself. Of you not trying to do anything so _final ___again.” Puck glances up at him and Kurt says, “A month to give you something to live for. Please, Puck.” No, that’s not right. “Please, _Noah_.”

“And what can _you_ give me, Hummel?” he asks, almost viciously. “Away in your cage with your little bitch-boy. What the _fuck_ can you give me?”

Kurt wants to touch him. To hug him. “A friend, Noah,” he says. “You’ve never had someone choose you. This is me, choosing _you_.”

Noah blinks at him, and Kurt doesn’t think he notices that he’s rubbing at his left wrist. “What does that even _mean_?” He sounds honestly bewildered.

“Every weekend, you and I will do something. Four weekends, just me and you. Whatever you want. I reserve, the right, however,” he adds, “to take you shopping and buy you something that will look amazing on you.”

“And your boy?” Noah asks. “Your family. They won’t let you spend time with me.” 

Kurt shrugs. “No one _lets_ me do anything, Noah. I’m Kurt motherfucking Hummel.” 

That, at least, gets a smile.

0o0

Kurt calls Blaine to cancel their date for that evening. He tells Noah to choose a movie and bundles him into bed, and while Noah watches Optimus Prime save the world, he mentally composes a list of every good thing there is about Noah Puckerman.

It’s a longer list than anyone would expect, and he’s sure that Noah wouldn’t believe half of it. He vows to spend the next four weekends proving them all.

When Finn and their parents get home, Noah is asleep and sprawled all over Kurt. Kurt is slowly running his fingers through Noah’s hair; he hasn’t had the mohawk since ‘juvie,’ when he shaved his head. Another cry for help that no one noticed, due to never-ending drama.

Before Dad or Finn can freak and kick Noah out the house, Kurt gives them his strongest glare. “I’ll explain later,” he hisses. “Leave us alone.”

Carole drags them both away, with a look over her shoulder that means he _will_ explain. Kurt nods.

Noah sleeps all through the evening and into the next morning. He wakes up around dawn and tries to sneak out, but Kurt grabs his hand. “It’s the weekend,” he says. “You’re mine.”

“I… are you sure?” Noah asks. Kurt’s never seen him this uncertain, this broken. It’s just so _wrong_. 

“Yes,” Kurt says, so strongly Noah is visibly taken aback. “What do you want to do?” 

Noah shuffles in place for a moment, still letting Kurt hold his hand. “I, I need to piss,” he mumbles. “Then… can we sleep some more? I’m… so tired.”

Kurt smiles at him. “Anything you want, Noah.” 

Noah’s smile is barely there, but Kurt sees it. And he won’t let Noah go until it’s bright enough to light up the world again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puck wasn't in juvie. He was in the hospital for a suicide attempt.
> 
> When he comes back, he's quiet. He doesn't speak up in Glee anymore. Not to sing a song by a Jew. Not to make a smart comment. Not for anything.
> 
> He only wears long sleeves anymore, covering up the "guns" he used to be so proud of. He doesn't want anyone to see the the scar on his arm that stretches from his wrist to his elbow.
> 
> Then Kurt saw the scar.
> 
> According to statistics, (and I actually looked this up to make sure I was right) "between one quarter and one third of adolescents who attempt suicide will go on to try again, with the greatest risk for recurrence falling between 6 months and 1 year after their first attempt."  
> (Source: http://cme.medscape.com/viewarticle/702018)
> 
> "Give me one month. One month to show you that life is worth living. One month to give you something to live for."
> 
> No death, please!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fic DVD Commentaries](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795196) by [tigriswolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf)




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